Stay Alive
by ladylannster
Summary: Haymitch Abernathy was a boy just like anybody else, until he got reaped in the 50th annual Hunger Games. This is his story.
1. Flowers and paper slips

_A/N: This is basically The Second Quarter Quell for Haymitch's POV. English is not my native language, so please excuse me if there's any grammar mistakes. _

_Review if you think that I should continue!_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 1: FLOWERS AND PAPER SLIPS<strong>

Haymitch Abernathy sat on the doorstep, with a big bucket at his feet. He peeled the potatoes that he and his family would have for dinner later that day, among with the piece of meat he had found on the ground outside the butcher's house a few days ago. After the reaping, they were supposed to celebrate for not being picked this year either. If they did get picked though, they would eat dinner at the train to the capitol. At the train to their death.

Haymitch lived in the Seam, the poorest part of District 12. It wasn't unusual that people applied a few tesseras here. Everyone did what they could to survive, Haymitch too. His name was currently on 20 of the paper slips in the boy's glass ball, which wasn't much comparing to what some other kids had. A boy who lived across the street was only 14 years old, and his name was already on 37 of the slips.

But Haymitch could still be picked, or his brother, even with his only three names in the ball. He tried to be prepared for anything.

Just as all the families in the Seam, the Abernathy's were very poor, barely surviving. Mrs Abernathy worked in the mines 15 hours a day, Haymitch was raising geese whose eggs they could either eat or sell, and his younger brother, Septimus, was good at collecting edible plants. Their father had died many years ago. Haymitch didn't even remember him. Their house was cold, with peeling paint and small rooms.

Sometimes Haymitch looked longingly at the house in the Victor's Village. The houses there had real isolations, nice furnitures, electricity 24 hours a day, even telephones! It was ten houses, but only one of them was inhabited, by an old man, Cordo Inchcape, who had won one of the first Games. He was so old that he'd probably die within a few weeks.

When Haymitch was younger, he used to wonder why no one lived in the other houses in Victor's Village. District 12 almost never even had a chance to win the Games, and it seemed like such a waste to just leave the houses empty for decades. But now he understood. The capitol said that it was because of honor and respect, but really it was just another way to for them show their power.

Haymitch peeled the last potato, took the bucket and carried it into the house.

"Mom!", he called. "I'm done with the potatoes!"

Mrs Abernathy came into the kitchen, with red cheeks and a bunch of clothes in her arms. Reaping clothes.

"Oh, lovely", she said. "Thanks Haymitch, you're such a sweetheart. Could you put them over there, at the sink?"

Haymitch put them where she had told him, and turned around right away to walk out again.

"I'll just go and throw the skins in the compost, okay?", he called over his back, but his mother grabbed arm and stopped him.

"Oh no no, you can do that after the reaping. You need to get freshen up. I didn't wash your best shirt for nothing, young man..!"

Haymitch smiled at her. His mother always became like this when she was nervous about something. He guessed that she wanted to spend every little minute with him this day, just in case that he would be chosen at the reaping.

"Mom", he said and stroked her hair calming. He was nearly eight inches taller than her already and wasn't even full grown yet. "I'll just get rid of the potato skins, okay? Maybe I'll make a quick visit to Phenelope on the way home. I will be home before twelve o'clock."

His mom looked at him for a moment. She had the same dark brown hair as Haymitch and his brother, even though it lately had started to turn gray. Haymitch wasn't sure if was because of age or stress. Probably a mix of both. She and Haymitch had the same gray eye color, bright and dangerous.

Eventually his mother stepped back and said:

"Okay, fine. Get some flowers for Phenelope as well when you're at the meadow, and say hello to her from me. I'll have a tub and some clean clothes ready for you when you come home."

I looked happily at her and gave her a tight hug and a kiss on her forehead.

"See you later mom, love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

Haymitch ended the hug and grabbed the other bucket, this one full of potato skin. He gave a handful to the geese, and started to walk off to the meadow with the rest of it.

It was a beautiful day, sunny without the slightest cloud in the sky. It was almost like if the capitol wanted to make fun of them even more.

The compost was, basically, just a deep hole in one of the corners of the meadow. It was always stinking of rotten foot and human feces, and the people in District 12 only visited it when they had to.

He made it as quickly as possible and held his nose while he emptied the bucket. The hole was about to be filled already. He guessed that more people were cooking food for today's reaping.

Haymitch started looking for flowers. The peacekeepers usually left the meadow alone, so it was full of plants at this time of the year. Sometimes Septimus could leave in the morning to find food there and not be back until late afternoon. There was always new things to explore. '

Eventually he found some primroses, just a few metres from the electrified fence that seperated the meadow from the woods. It was there too protect the district from wild animals, but Haymitch knew that it was also to make sure the capitol had control over the people. They were like birds in a cage.

Haymitch used to go out in the woods anyway once in a while. He wasn't the best hunter, but there was loads of berries to find, and he could kill smaller animals with his knife. The fence was only electrified a few hours a day, and it was easy to sneak past the peacekeepers when they looked away. Nonetheless he usually stayed on the safe side of the fence. It wasn't worth the trouble if he got caught.

He placed the bucket aside and picked some flowers. They were yellow as the sun, Phenelope's favorite color.

Haymitch took a blade of grass and tied the primroses into a bouquet. He put them in the empty bucket and started to walk back to the Seam.

Phenelope Lapworth was a 16 year old girl who lived together with her sick mother. Her dad and older brothers had died because of poisonous gas in the mines a year ago, together with mine workers.

Mrs Lapworth could barely walk anymore and wasn't capable of working. It was rumored that she had a disease called cancer, that could only be cured with expensive, high-tech medicine from the capitol. Phenelope had once told Haymitch that she hoped her mother died as soon as possible, so she wouldn't have to die in too much pain. Even if Phenelope took care of herself, her mom and the house already on her own, Haymitch sometimes worried about what would happen to her when she was all alone.

Phenelope was very beautiful, with green eyes and long dark hair. She was clever with top grades in almost every subject, and on their garden she grew potatoes and vegetables.

When Haymitch came by her house that morning, she was sitting on her mothers bed, talking silently and holding her hand. Since mrs Lapworth was lying on her deathbed the peacekeepers couldn't force her to watch the reaping, but of course she was still afraid for what could happen to Phenelope.

"Knock knock", he said to make his presence noticed.

Phenelope turned around and lit up when she saw who it was. When she smiled she smiled with her whole face, the eyes sparkled and everyone around her couldn't help but smiling too. That was one of the things that Haymitch loved the most about her.

"Haymitch!", she said. "You should be home getting ready!"

She was dressed in a simple blue skirt and a white blouse with embroidery. He knew that she loved those clothes, but could only afford to wear them once a year. The hair was in a neat braid instead of the usual ponytail.

Haymitch grinned at her.

"Do I look that bad? I'm sorry but everyone can't be as gorgeous as you, sweetheart."

She blushed .

"Thank you, Haymitch. But you really should get a bath. If you show up like that at the reaping, God knows what they'd do with you! Where have you been, at the compost?"

"Actually yes... And don't worry, I'm on my way home. I was just gonna leave this to you first", he said as he gave her the primroses. "Thought that you two could need to get a little cheered up."

Phenelope looked completely amazed over the flowers. She almost never visited the meadow as she had to stay home with her mom.

"Look mother!", she said and showed the flowers. "Haymitch brought us flowers."

Mrs Lapworth touched one of the petals and whispered something Haymitch couldn't hear, but Phenelope seemed to understand because she nodded and hugged her hand harder. Carefully, to not hurt her mother, she stood up from the bed.

"I'll just go and find a vase to put them in, they're outside..."

"Yeah, I must go anyway... Nice to meet you, mrs Lapworth. Take care", Haymitch said.

Such a silly thing to say to someone that was so sick she had no chance to survive more than a few days. _Take care. _She wasn't even capable to take care. But mrs Lapworth just smiled friendly at him.

"Phenelope, how many slips are your name on this year?", he asked Phenelope once out of the house.

At first she didn't answer, just bent down on her knees and started looking for a vase under the doorstep. She took a very long time, and when she raised she didn't look at him.

"I don't know", she mumbled and put the primroses into the vase.

_Oh no_, Haymitch thought. _Please not again._

"Phenelope", he repeated. "Look at me. How many slips are your name on?"

Unwilling she looked up, meeting his eyes. She had bags under hers, and the high cheekbones made her look even skinnier.

Then, in a breath, she said quickly:

"Twenty-nine."

Haymitch felt the tears in his eyes. He couldn't stand looking at her and glazed over to her shoes instead.

"You promised", he said. "You promised not to take any tesseras this year."

"I had to. I needed the food."

"Which I could've give to you!"

"So you mean that I would've asked for food that you and your family need?"

"Well we certainly don't need all of it!"

"Haymitch, listen to me. What matter does it how many times my name is in that stupid bowl? My mother is dead in a few days, maybe a week. Even if I did get picked, no one would miss me. So why not have as much food as I can while I'm still here?"

Haymitch looked up at her. He understood that she needed the food that the tesseras gave her, but he still couldn't believe that she had not told him about it.

"I would miss you. I would miss you more than anything in the world. Doesn't that matter even a little bit to you?"

"Of course it does!", Phenelope said. "But if I died, you'd get over it by time. You have a family who loves you. By the way it's not even sure that I'll be picked."

Haymitch raised an eyebrow.

"Sweetheart, you're one of the girls with the most slips. And it's quarter quell this year. It would be a miracle if you did not get picked."

"Shouldn't you worry more about yourself?", Phenelope hissed angrily.

"Well, I'm so sorry for caring about you!", he snapped back.

"I never asked for it!"

Haymitch and Phenelope never fought. They had been together for nearly two years and Haymitch was already saving for a wedding ring to give her at her 18th birthday. Normally the couples in district 12 just used a worn-out ring that had been used for at least two weddings before, but Haymitch wanted to have something nice and all new. It took time to get the money for it, but it was worth it.

But right then he didn't feel very keen of that ring and all the work that it cost him. Why could she never just listen to him?

"I should go", he said.

"You should. Thanks for the flowers."

He nodded shortly and took the bucket in his hand.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, sweetheart."

Before Phenelope could answer, he walked with quick steps down the Seam. He didn't turn around before he was almost at his house.

There, far away, he could see Phenelope sitting at her doorstep, looking blank at the primroses in her hands.


	2. The reaping

_A/N: Sorry for not updating before now, I have exams and school is killing me. If you like this please review! x_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 2: THE REAPING<strong>

"You look so handsome, Haymitch."

"Thanks, mother."

Haymitch was dressed in gray pants with braces and a white shirt. The black shoes on his feet had once been his fathers.

He felt even less eager for the reaping after his visit at Phenelope's house. If one of them got into the arena he didn't want their last words to each other to be screamed in anger.

He loved her so much that his heart ached, and that's why he had gone mad at her.

It was all the Capitol's fault. It was always their fault.

Haymitch looked at the clock. Only one hour left.

"Where's Septimus?", he asked.

"Here", a voice said as the door to the bathroom opened.

Septimus was a 15 year old, good looking boy with dark hair and gray eyes. Both he and Haymitch were found attractive to the girls in school, but while Haymitch didn't make any closer relationships to any of them (Phenelope was an exception), Septimus was very popular with many friends. He had a new girlfriend every second week, basically. Haymitch didn't understand how he could do like that. The more people you knew the more you had to say goodbye to.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead?", Haymitch asked him. "Did you forget your clothes in wonderland?"

Septimus was dressed in only his underwear, showing his muscular body. The lack of hair on his chest reminded Haymitch of how young he was, how young they both were. His brother was indeed strong and with his face it wouldn't be very hard to get sponsors, but would he stand a chance against the careers in the Games?

"Um, yeah", Septimus replied confused, as if he had not noticed that he was half naked until now. "Mom, do you have any clothes for me?"

"They're on the chair, sweetie. And please hurry a little, we need to go soon."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Septimus looked calm just as always, and his eyes were focused when he dressed. Septimus and Haymitch were just the same in that way. They didn't cry, at least not in front of others, because crying didn't make any difference. They didn't laugh, because they had nothing to laugh about. Always that serious face. "Mysterious" people called them, but really the two brothers were just realistic.

Septimus' clothes were nearly the same as Haymitch's, but except of braces he wore a blue tie. Haymitch couldn't help but smiling. Septimus had always hated ties.

"So", Septimus said as he tied the tie with a grimace, "what do we eat for tonight?"

Haymitch raised his eyebrows.

"Sep, we're about to get reaped and all you think about is food?"

"I'm just trying to optimistic! It's a chance in a thousand that one of us get picked anyway.", he said with a shrug.

"Well, what if we _both _get picked?"

"Oh yeah, that's likely..."

"It's not impossible, Septimus!"

"Haymitch, I just asked about the fucking food, for fuck's sake..."

"Not that language!", their mother said angrily. "Your brother is just caring about you, Septimus. Now apologize."

Septimus rolled his eyes and muttered:

"I'm sorry."

"Never mind."

They sat silent at the kitchen table, not looking at each other. Mrs Abernathy tried to cheer them up.

"We're eating potatoes and squirrel tonight. You found some katniss yesterday, didn't you, Septimus? Maybe we could have it too."

"Sure."

Septimus had been out late that night. People from school thought that he did it to defy the regime, but sometimes he went out in the middle of the night, just walking around at the meadow. To forget. Because if you lived in district 12, it didn't matter how many friends you had or how good looking you were. If you got reaped, no one would no longer care enough to volunteer. The Capitol could take your family, your friends, your home, if they wanted to. They were nothing but puppets in their show.

Once, when Haymitch was younger, his classmate Ayla got reaped, only 13 years old. In the arena she hid at the edge and refused to kill or even make allies with the other tributes. The gamemakers tried everything, they started a fire and even sent dangerous mutations after her, but she didn't give in. When it was only her and two boys left, she stole a knife from one of them and committed suicide.

Suicide wasn't enough entertainment for the Capitol. The whole plot with the Games was to watch the kids kill each other, the more brutal the better. Suicide wasn't acceptable. One day when Haymitch and Septimus were out selling geese eggs, they saw Ayla's father being forced on knees and shot in the head by the peacekeepers. Just a loud _pang_, and then it was over. It wasn't even much blood. Ayla didn't have any siblings, and the few times Haymitch saw her mother, she was walking around confused as if she was looking for something.

When you got reaped, the Capitol didn't only hurt yourself. It hurt your family and friends too.

"We should go, boys", his mom said and waked Haymitch up from his thoughts.

"Yes, of course", he said as he stood up.

He dragged in Septimus' tie and forced a smile.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, little brother."

At two o'clock they were standing at the square. He could hear Septimus joke around with his friends behind, even though he knew that his brother wasn't as tough as he made himself. Their mother was with the other adults and the children that were too young to participate in the Games.

Haymitch, Septimus and the other boys were standing in a roped area, with the oldest in the front and the youngest in the back. Haymitch couldn't help but wonder which of them they are gonna loose this year.

His eyes searched for Phenelope, and he found her with a few other sixteen-year-old girls from the Seam. She met his glaze and waved at him with a strained smile. He smiled back at her, with a fear that it could be the last time he saw her smiling.

A lady with a big green wig stood up at the stage in front of them. Her name was Amelia Erwin, and came to district 12 every year to escort the tributes to the Capitol. She couldn't be older than max thirty, but with all her make-up she looked like fifty.

It was obvious that Amelia Erwin hated her job. Since district 12 was the smallest and the poorest of all the district, we had only won the Games once in 50 years. Amelia wanted a promotion to a better district more than anything else, but she wouldn't get it as long as her tributes kept loosing.

She cleared the throat and spoke:

"Welcome, everyone, to the reaping of the 50th annual Hunger Games! It's so nice to see all of your happy faces again!"

Haymitch looked around, and he couldn't see a single person looking happy.

It was dead silence, and Amelia cleared her throat again to break the awkwardness.

"Anyway, as usual, we will let the mayor speak. This information comes all the way from the Capitol, so listen carefully!", she smiled and stepped back, and their old mayor took over the microphone.

He started talking, and on the big screen behind him showed pictures from the old days, and he told us reason why we forced children killing each other in a large arena every year. Like if we didn't already know.

_Glory. Freedom. A second chance. Yeah right._

Fifty years ago, the thirteen districts of Panem upraised against the Capitol. Many people were murdered, district 13 was destroyed, but in the end the Capitol won anyway. They always won against the districts.

As a punishment for the uprising, each year the twelve districts would offer one young man and woman in the age of twelve and eighteen by random, and throw them into a competition with 24 tributes, and only one survival.

Haymitch didn't know his district's only winner personally, but had seen him at the reapings the years before. Cordo Inchcape was a man in his late fifties, and had won the 11th annual Hunger Games. He spent his days smoking cigarettes and had, just like Phenelope's mother, cancer, but unlike her he hadn't tried to get any better but just kept smoking his lungs out. Haymitch wondered if that was his plan in the end, to get himself killed. Haymitch couldn't even imagine what it was like in the arena, but the things you'd see there must make horrible things with your mind.

The mayor finished his speech and sat down on his chair again.

"That was beautiful, truly beautiful, mr mayor", Amelia said into the microphone. "People of district 12, let's give your mayor an applaud, shall we?"

They still didn't move, and her lonely claps echoed in the square.

"Oh well", she said and stopped clapping as soon as she understood that she had probably embarrassed herself in fron of her friends in the Capitol. "We better get started! After all it's Quarter Quells this year!"

Every 25th year it was Quarter Quells in the Hunger Games. Of course Haymitch wasn't born during the last one, but he knew pretty good what it was about. At the Quarter Quells the gamemakers would make the Games even a little harder than usual. During the 25th Hunger Games, there were no reaping. Instead, each district had to _choose _two tributes to fight to the death in the arena. To be honest Haymitch rather wanted to be picked at random then hearing your own neighbors saying that they want you dead.

Now, at the second Quarter Quell, twice as many tributes would be fighting in the Games, two girls and two boys from each district. Twice as much chance to get reaped.

"Ladies first!", Amelia said and giggled in her usual, girly way.

She went to one of the big glass bowls on the stage and carefully chose one of the paper slips. She stopped for a moment and looked curiously on the name, as if she didn't know how to pronounce it.

_That's good,_ Haymitch told himself. Phenelope's name can't be difficult to say, even for a Capitol citizen.

But was it really good? Even if Phenelope didn't get picked to fight to her death, another innocent girl would. Of course it wasn't good.

After talking to the mayor, Amelia Erwin finally seemed to know how to pronounce the name.

"Hrm, excuse me. Fiaaané... sorry, mr mayor, what did you say her name was?", she whispered as she turned around again.

Even though the serious scene, Haymitch had to bite his lip to not burst out in laugh. The name was probably not hard to pronounce at all, Amelia was just too stupid, just like all the people from the Capitol. They were filmed live, but he was almost sure that all this would be cut from the tape later.

Amelia's cheeks were now red as fresh tomatoes, and she mumbled the name quickly:

"Fannia Duncain!"

Haymitch had never heard her name before, but when she went up on the stage he suddenly recognized her. She was two years younger than him, he thought, and due her looks she probably lived in the Seam. In school she was very special and always sat by herself and played with sticks or spoons. Maybe she was sick in some way, mentally.

Amelia showed her where on the stage she should stand, and then Fannia just stood there in her simple blue dress, looking down at her hands, which squeezed each other nervously. Poor girl.

The second name dragged from the girl's bowl was obviously not as strange as Fannia's, because Amelia didn't need the mayor's help this time.

"Maysilee Donner!"

Blurry memories flashed through Haymitch's mind: a young girl from the richer part of the district, with blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sky on a sunny summer day. Every time she saw Haymitch on the square, she convinced her mother to buy one or two eggs from him. It was strange, because she always seemed to know when they didn't have much money at home, and then she sneaked some extra coins into his hand. Her mother never noticed, and neither did Haymitch before he counted them back home.

Haymitch had always felt attached to Maysilee in some way, not because of the money, but because she was one of the few persons who were actually nice to him. They never spoke to each other, even though they went to school together. Their silent conversations on the square was almost like a secret.

Maysilee was now quickly hugging two other blonde girls; her twin sister Mariah and one of her friends. Haymitch was surprised when she didn't cry, just calmly went up on the stage and stood next to Fannia.

Maysilee's parents owned the candy shop, she was as rich as you could be in district 12. She had probably never been forced to apply for tesserae, her five slips in a ball with hundreds of others shouldn't even matter.

Haymitch didn't understand the anger that he felt inside. Maysilee bought eggs from him, so what? A lot of people did, he didn't know her better than he knew them.

He should be happy that Phenelope had not been reaped, and of course he was, but...

_Why Maysilee Donner. Why._

"Leonard Fairbain!"

Haymitch instantly returned to reality, as he saw a skinny boy from the Seam make his way to Maysilee and Fannia. He had been so busy with his owns thoughts that he had forgot to worry about Septimus.

Haymitch wished that he had his little brother close now, so he could hold him in his arms and stroke his hair. Maybe Septimus didn't need to be calmed down, but Haymitch most certainly did.

He saw Amelia step to the boy's bowl and put her hand in it. A bunch of images suddenly hit Haymitch; Septimus running away from the cornucopia in panic, Septimus not being able find water and faints, Septimus being chased my mutts, a career tribute that sticks a knife in Septimus' chest, Septimus' dead body in a coffin...

Haymitch felt how his heart beat faster and faster, and he started to feel dizzy. Even if he volunteered, Septimus would not accept it.

It was nothing he could do but closing his eyes, and cross his fingers in a desperate call for help.

It must've helped, because when Amelia Erwin announced the final tribute, it wasn't Septimus Abernathy.

It was his brother.


	3. Goodbye, District 12

**CHAPTER 3: GOODBYE, DISTRICT 12**

Two peacekeepers roughly pushed him into a dark room in The Justice Building and closed the door behind him with loud bang.

Haymitch stood still as a statue, petrified with terror. He was one of District 12's tributes. He was going to die within a few weeks.

For the first time in his life, Haymitch cared more about himself than he did for his family or Phenelope. He didn't want to die, kill anyone, or even go to the Capitol! All he wanted was that things would be like they'd always been; with poverty and an annoying brother to look after and feeding the geese three times a day and kissing his mother goodnight and saving money for Phenelope's wedding ring...

_What had he ever done to deserve this._

Maybe he could run. Maybe they had accidentally left some window open and he could sneak past the peacekeepers outside, run to the meadow, find a weak spot in the fence, escape into the woods...

Then what? Even if he was lucky enough to find the fence unelectrified, he wouldn't have time to get any weapons, and he couldn't hunt animals with his bare hands. There were a chance though, that he could find a stone with sharp edges, and he had heard that it was possible to make own bows, but it still wouldn't be enough and he couldn't eat berries for the rest of his life. Besides, his family would probably be punished as soon as the peacekeepers realized he was gone.

The door swung open and the lights turned on, and his mom and brother hurried inside the room.

"Oh my boy, my poor little boy", his mother said as she hugged him tightly. She had a lump in her throat.

"Ten minutes!", a peacekeepers snapped and shut the door again.

Haymitch's mother let go of the hug and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Haymitch, you can do this. You have taken care of me and Septimus for many years now, you know how to survive!"

"Mother, I can't...", he paused for a second, "_murder _children!"

"Just hide from the others and focus on yourself, okay? That'll take you more far than you believe. Listen very close at the training, the guides are professionals and know what they are talking about."

Haymitch nodded and made his best to keep the tears back. He didn't want his family to worry even more than they already did.

His mother took a deep breath.

"Just try to get home again, okay."

"I will, mother. I promise."

_I promise. _Once he was in the arena a promise like that wouldn't be easy to keep.

"Feed the geese three times a day", he continued, "that's all they need. Septimus, you can go and sell their eggs after school, right?"

Septimus had not said anything before now, but now he opened his mouth and simply answered:

"Yes, of course."

"If you do that you should have almost as much food as we have now. And if... if I win...", he swallowed, "...then we can move into the Victor's Village and be full everyday. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I don't want to be rich", Septimus said. "I just want my brother to be alive and happy."

Haymitch looked up at his little brother's face. No, still no tears. But he thought he saw his lower jaw tremble a little bit.

"I'll do... I'll do my best to fix that, Septimus."

"Oh, you better do, you little..."

What Haymitch was he never found out though, because before Septimus had finished, he had suddenly thrown himself into Haymitch's arms and held so tight that Haymitch almost choked.

"I love you", Septimus breathed into his ear. "Please, I can't lose you, not now..."

"Ssh, it's okay...", he said as he stroke his little brother's hair the way he had wanted to do at the reaping. Calming, comforting. "I'm still here, it's okay..."

"I'm sorry for shouting at you all the time and complaining about how poor we are, and I'm so sorry that time when I let all the geese out because I was too lazy to go back and close the gate, and..."

Septimus' voice was hoarse and he tripped on words.

"Don't worry about that, I forgive you for everything."

"I love you", Septimus whispered again.

Haymitch bit his lip to not cry.

"I love you too, Sep."

He could hear a stifled sob, and two other arms hugged himself and Septimus from the side. They stood like that for minutes; Haymitch, Septimus and their mother – trying to hold on to their last moment together.

Then the peacekeepers came and took them away from him again, probably for good this time, and he was alone again.

Haymitch felt a sudden desire to scream, cry out loud, maybe break something, just so he didn't have to keep all his feelings inside. But he was sure Phenelope would come and say goodbye to him too, and he didn't want her to find him in a state like that.

_He wasn't mad. Not yet._

A few seconds later, even though they felt like years, Phenelope was finally with him. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she kept a straight face to not upset him. He appreciated her for that.

"Haymitch, I'm sorry", she said. "I know I shouldn't have applied for more tesserae, but I just..."

"It's alright, don't worry, sweetheart."

Phenelope cleared her throat.

"Look; you know which food is poison, Haymitch, and you can defend yourself..."

"Phenelope, no..."

"...you have been in the woods several times, you raise geese, you take care of your family..."

"Phenelope..."

"...believe it or not, but you have big chance in winning this..."

"No, I don't!", he interrupted her. "Phenelope, the arena... I don't know what it looks like, but it won't be like District 12. Yes, I've been in the woods, and I know a little about hunting, but not any big animals and definitely not humans! The only thing I can hunt is blueberries and squirrels!"

"Yes, but when you hold a knife in your hand, and it's a fight on life and death, are you sure it will be such a big difference between a squirrel and a child?", she said seriously. "You don't know that yet, Haymitch. You have never been in that situation."

Haymitch thought about what she had just said. Would the arena change him and turn him into some kind of cold blooded beast without remorse?

Phenelope was right, he didn't know that yet. And it scared him.

"Before I leave, I need to tell you something, sweetheart."

He looked upon her face; the gray eyes that sparkled like diamonds, the dark shiny hair which she had released from the braid and now floated down her back... He took a piece of it and gently put it behind her ear with a smile. Her cheeks were full of dark freckles, and on her neck she had a small, red spot. He wondered if he had noticed it yet, because she always got so annoyed when she did. Haymitch himself thought that it was quite charming, because in some way it reminded him of that they were still human, unlike the Capitol citizens.

"Yes, Haymitch?", Phenelope said.

He took a deep breath.

"You are... the most... I don't know how to say it, the most _most _person I have ever met. You're pretty, and smart, and funny, and nice to everyone, and...", he felt a warm tear down his cheek but didn't try to stop it, "...and I love the way you chew on your pen in school, and how you play with your hair, and how you kiss me goodbye every night, and how you're holding my hand; you kind of squeeze it, but not too hard, and when you laugh I'd like to record it so I could hear it all over and over again. You're my best friend and the girl I once hoped to marry . I love you more than anything in this world, and I hope you know and understand that, because there is no one else that I'd rather spend the rest of my days with, because you are _perfect_, no matter what anyone else says..."

He took a break to clear his throat.

"...but I cannot win this, Phenelope. You should find someone else to marry, because you deserve to be happy, even if it's not with me." Another teardrop streamed down his face. He didn't know that his goodbye to Phenelope would be this emotional to him. "Because I'm not coming back, sweetheart. But I want you to know, that you will be with me until my last breath... always."

Phenelope swallowed. "Don't say that..."

"Sweetheart, please listen..."

But Phenelope didn't listen. Instead she looked around as if she was searching for something... or someone.

Then, completely unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around him and put her lips closed to his right ear.

"This is very important, okay?", she whispered, as low as only Haymitch could hear her. "Around all arenas there's a huge force field. Find it. It'll help you win."

She let go off him, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Haymitch looked confused at her and stopped crying. _A force field. _He barely knew what that was. Something electrical, yeah, but that's what they were doing in District 3, not 12. How did Phenelope know about that?

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but what..."

"Sch!", she hissed, and Haymitch finally understood. They were probably being watched in this very moment.

_Control. _That's what it was all about.

"You're smart, Haymitch", Phenelope said. "Then outsmart them. Show them what you've got. And when you get home, you and I will get married, because you deserve to be happy too."

She smiled at him, showing all her teeth, which was extraordinary white for belonging to someone from the Seam. He couldn't help but smiling back to her.

"Oh but wait!", she said. "You need something from me, as support in the Capitol."

"No no, it's fine, I don't need anything", Haymitch said quickly.

"Shut up, my dearie, of course you do!", she said as she took off her shoe. "Here take this", she reached him one of her white socks, "it's not much, but you'll need something from home."

He took the sock and held it in his hand for a moment. It had probably been used many times before because it was more gray than white. He carefully put it in his pocket.

"Thank you."

Phenelope smiled again and caressed his cheek with one of her soft hands. Haymitch could feel how he got warm inside.

"Time's up!"

The peacekeepers were back again and it was time to say goodbye for started to panic.

_No no no no no no no not yet._

"Phenelope, I can't do this...", he said and grabbed her shoulders.

"Yes, you can, don't ever stop believe that! And I love you very very much. Your family loves you too. If you ever starts doubting at yourself, just think about that. It's gonna be okay, Haymitch. Trust me."

She kissed him again, on the lips this time, and then the peacekeepers dragged her out of the room.

He was alone. Again.

Half an hour later Haymitch, Maysilee, Fannia, Leonard and Amelia got on the train that would take them to the Capitol. Cordo should be around somewhere too, but he was probably already in one of the carriages, busy with his smoking.

Amelia lead them into a big room, probably some kind of saloon, and showed them a round table with five yellow armchairs around it.

"Well, sit down!", she said, in a way to happy tone for talking to doomed children. "I'll just go and find Cordo for you."

She hurried away again, and the high heels she wore made a very annoying sound when she ran. Haymitch met Leonard's eyes, and they couldn't help but smiling at each other.

They sat down in the armchairs just as Amelia had told them. Haymitch had never sat in such a comfortable chair before. Back home they just had their old wood chairs.

Fannia was still very miserable and didn't look up at any of them, and Leonard had to help her to sit down at the place next to him. Maysilee still looked surprisingly casual, and calmly took the armchair next to Haymitch without looking at him.

After that they didn't say a word to each other; no one cried, no one coughed or sneezed. Just total silence. Haymitch wondered if maybe he should start a conversation to lighten up everyone's mood a little.

_We're all going to die, _he told himself. _There is no mood to lighten up._

Oh well, it couldn't hurt trying, though. After all he had always been told to be polite, no matter the situation.

_Everyone is going to be so polite in the Games... oh yeah._

He turned around and looked at Maysilee. Just like the rest of them she was still wearing her reaping clothes; a white, simple dress with matching shoes. On her dress she had a golden brooch, with some kind of bird on it... it looked expensive.

"What a lovely pin, Maysilee!", he said just to say something.

Maysilee looked up and smiled friendly at him.

"Aw, thank you Haymitch! I got it from from my grandmother when I was a little girl... So you like it?"

It was the first time she actually spoke to him, and she had a peaceful, dreamy voice that calmed him down in some way.

He nodded.

"Yes, definitely. What kind of bird is it? I think I recognize it."

"Oh, it would surprise me if you didn't, I've seen you and your brother at the meadow close to the woods. Can you guess what it is?"

Haymitch looked closer at the pin. It took him a while, but then he realized.

"It's a mockingjay."

* * *

><p><em>AN: This is not the best I've written, but I hope you like it at least a little bit. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming! xx_


	4. Nightmarish friends

**CHAPTER 4; NIGHTMARISH FRIENDS**

Once Cordo finally showed up, he was wearing a long bathrobe with coffee stains, and he reeked of smoke. He grumbled by himself and sat down in the empty armchair and looked judging at his tributes.

"So this is what I've got this year..." he sighted. "Can you, um... do something?"

Haymitch looked at the others. He didn't believe any of them could do anything that could help them in the arena. In the Seam you didn't have time to do anything else than survive, and those who lived in the Merchant Section, like Maysilee, didn't need to learn since they almost always had food and money anyway. In the mines you most likely could learn a lot that would matter in the Games, but you didn't start working there before the age of 18.

Haymitch had never been in a fight in his entire life. Just as Septimus he was pretty masculine, but he preferred not to waste it on such silly things. If the careers went after him, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Maysilee carefully raised her hand.

"Um, I know some healing plants, and I'm pretty sure which ones are poisonous. My friend, the apothecary's daughter, has taught me. That would help if I got injured, right?"

Haymitch had never met the apothecary and his daughter since his family couldn't afford any medicine, and they didn't go to school together, but she was probably one of Maysilee's blonde friends. Haymitch didn't socialize with them and to him they all looked pretty much the same so he couldn't really tell them apart.

He expected Cordo to be glad that at least one of his tributes knew something useful, but he just laughed at her and poured a clear liquid into his glass. It stank of alcohol.

"Yes, yes, but to be injured you must've survived a fight first, young lady. Do you honestly believe you'd do that? Because I don't. You have been surrounded by candy and overprotecting parents your whole life, so no, even without careers hanging after you you wouldn't survive longer than max a few days..."

"Oh come on!", Haymitch interrupted him. After all Cordo was supposed to be their mentor and there was no reason to be criticizing before the training had even started. "You can't judge us by the way we were raised! Besides, there are a plenty of ways to win without being in the center of the fight all the time..."

Cordo glared at him.

"So, you're just going to hide and hope that the other 47 tributes kill each other? Oh, and when it's only you and one of the careers left, he or she is going to realize that you deserve to win because you are so, oh what's the word, _warmhearted_, and jump off a cliff. Of course. I can't believe that _I _didn't come up with that _genius _plan."

"You're supposed to help us, not being sarcastic!"

Cordo laughed again.

"Help you? You're about to be slaughtered, there is no way in hell that I can help you! And I don't say that to be mean, I'm just realistic, dear boy. If you want to get back home, kill. That's the rules, you cannot change it."

Haymitch didn't answer. Cordo was right, of course.

Fannia suddenly stood up, still not looking at any of them.

"In that case I'd rather die", she said. "I don't want to get home with anyone's blood on my hands."

It was the first words she had ever said in Haymitch's presence, but her voice was surprisingly strong to belonging to such a fragile body.

Even Cordo seemed to be in shock, he had probably not even noticed Fannia before, and didn't say anything. Fannia seemed didn't seem to like the attention and instantly wrapped her arms around herself as if she expected them to attack her.

Leonard obviously felt sorry for her, because she put a calming hand on her shoulder. Fannia winced and looked at him with big, frightened eyes.

"Maybe you should go and take a bath, Fannia", Leonard said friendly. "It's been a long day, and we must look fresh when we meet our stylists tomorrow, right?"

Fannia didn't say anything, but Haymitch thought he could see a tiny smile on her lips.

"Oh, finally!", Cordo said and got up from his armchair. "Now I don't need to sit here and pretend to like you anymore. Enjoy the night, sweethearts!"

The nickname hit Haymitch like a bullet to his chest. He stuck his hand in his pocket, just in case that it wouldn't be there. But yes, he could feel Phenelope's sock in his hand. Good.

He looked after Cordo when he went to the door and continued to the next carriage.

"Maybe we should all go and take a bath", he said, sill looking at the door.

"Yeah, you're right", Leonard said. "Come Fannia, I'll help you."

He took her hand and lead her the same way as Cordo had went, leaving Haymitch and Maysilee alone in the saloon. Maysilee nodded at the door.

"I think they're cousins or something like that", she said. "Leonard and Fannia. I've seen them outside the shop a few times. They stop by and look at the candy in the window; Fannia likes the colors so much, you see. They never buy anything of course, no one ever does..."

Haymitch tried to imagine what it would be like to have a family member with him in the arena. Would he try to save her, or simply just hope that someone else would kill her before he had to?

The fact that only one of them could survive would be horrible anyway.

"Do you agree with Cordo?", Maysilee asked. "Do you think I've been so spoiled my whole life that I won't stand a chance in the Games?"

Haymitch looked at her, but he didn't say anything. What do you even answer on that kind of question?

"I bet you do", she continues. "All you in the Seam hates me and the other Merchant kids. I don't blame you, to be honest. I would've done the same thing."

"I don't hate you."

Maysilee turned around and met his gaze, and Haymitch immediately regretted what he had said. He didn't hate her, of course he didn't, but the Hunger Games wasn't the right place to make friends. One of them would be hurt in the end, and the few days of human love wasn't worth it.

"You don't?"

"I mean", he said and tried to conceal his words, "you buy eggs from me. You can't hate someone who gives you money."

Maysilee shrugged.

"My family has more money than we need, and geese eggs are good. So you notice that I'm buying your eggs? You must sell to a lot of people."

Haymitch sighed inside. This conversation didn't turn out the way he wanted.

"_Yes, _but... oh, why do you even care so much?"

"Maybe I'm just trying to figure out the best way to kill you", Maysilee said sly. "Haymitch, _seriously, _what is so wrong with getting to know each other? It doesn't mean that we have to be loyal at each other in the arena, but if you, Fannia and Leonard are the last persons I will get the chance to know, I don't want us to act like strangers."

She had a point there. But at the same time...

_He didn't want to loose Maysilee Donner. _She reminded him of home in some way, and he couldn't afford to let her he felt that way now, how much worse would it be when he actually knew her? Haymitch didn't even want to think about that.

"I just don't want to feel so alone", Maysilee said with a sight. "Does that make any sense?"

"I guess so."

He didn't want to spend more alone time with Maysilee, so he added quickly:

"If you excuse me, I should go and take a shower."

Maysilee looked a little sad for being left alone, and Haymitch almost started to feel guilty, but then she just nodded.

"Yeah, you do that. Push the buttons carefully though, I've heard that the Capitol showers are a bit more advanced than ours."

So Maysilee's family had a shower. Not many in District 12 had one, and definitely not Haymitch who was perfectly fine with their tub as long as it didn't leak, but for some people a shower was obviously a must.

"Thanks, I'll think about that", he said. "Well, I guess... I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Maysilee smiled, visibly amused about something.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing", she said. "Good night, Haymitch."  
>Haymitch shook his head in frustration but she just kept smiling, so he decided to leave her after all and walk down to his own carriage.<p>

_Merchant people._ They always thought they were so special. This was probably some kind of strategy from Maysilee's side; to make him like her so it would be easier to kill him later. But no, he wouldn't allow that.

Feelings make you 's why the careers won almost every year; because they had been trained their whole lives to not feel any mercy. Haymitch already had way too much sympathy for others, he didn't need any more for Maysilee too.

He shouldn't listen to her, he should just stop talking to her. Well, to Fannia and Leonard too actually. They were enemies, not friends, so actually there was no reason to get to know each other, no matter what Maysilee said.

Eventually he found the right carriage. His room was big, with a huge bed in the middle and two wardrobes full of clothes, and a narrow door lead into a bathroom.

Haymitch didn't even look at the clothes, he just took a random pair of clean underwear and went straight to the bathroom. He jumped out of his clothes and let the warm water from the shower hit him like a healing fountain.

Stubborn to not follow Maysilee's advice, after all he had decided to not listen to her anymore, he pushed some of the buttons at random and hoped that nothing bad would happen. Luckily he just got greased in a green foam that smelled of apples and vanilla, that later left his skin softer than it had ever been during the last sixteen years.

He wondered what his mother and Septimus did right now. They had probably not been able to eat the squirrel and the potatoes he had peeled that morning. Maybe Septimus was out on the meadow, empty walking around... his mother probably wrote in her diary, as she always did when she was upset...but no, after second thought Haymitch didn't believe that she would want to write about the reaping. That's nothing you want to be reminded of in the future.

He remembered when Ayla got reaped three years ago. After that day he never saw her family leave the house one time during the Games; actually that time when her father got shot it was the first time Haymitch saw them in many weeks. Would his family do that? Would they isolate themselves from the rest of the district and just hope that a miracle would bring him back to them? It wasn't impossible.

The shower ended with a warm steam that made it hard for him to see, but made him feel a fresh, a little tingling, feeling under his skin. He stepped out of the shower, got himself dried and greased in some cream (that also smelled of apples and vanilla) and took his underwear on.

Haymitch looked at himself in the mirror; his eyes were puffy and he had blue marks under them, and his hair was even more unruly that usual. He didn't care that much about how he looked like, but he didn't want to himself like this; he looked so... weak and fragile. He turned away and went to the bedroom instead, where he literally threw himself into the bed. It was soft, much softer than everything else that he had slept on, and after a while he realized that he would never be able to feel comfortable in it, at least not today. He took the covers and rolled down to the floor, where he fell asleep immediately.

He dreamed about a girl with no face and silver blonde hair who ran through a beautiful forest and screamed in panic for help. She was wearing a long dress, but it wasn't made of fabric... it was made of white flowers; primroses. Haymitch ran after her, but he had someone after himself that slowed him down. It took him a while to realize that it was Maysilee.

"No, Haymitch, you can't!", she yelled at him. "You can't!"

Haymitch didn't understand what she was talking about, but he just kept running after the girl. They reached a cliff with a deep chasm below, and before Haymitch could stop her the girl jumped. He tried to jump after her; he didn't even know why he did it, but Maysilee grabbed him from the back and dragged him away from the cliff. He screamed at her and bit her, but she didn't let go of him.

Then, suddenly, they both heard a crackling sound from the chasm, and dark smoke slowly reached from it. The girl had been burn to death by something down there.

Haymitch woke up, sweaty and with a pounding heart. He threw off the covers and stumbled into the bathroom, where his reaping clothes still lied on the floor. He rooted around until he found Phenelope's sock in his pocket, and went back to the bedroom. He lay down on the floor once again, and closed his eyes while he was squeezing the sock in his hand. Haymitch could almost hear Phenelope whisper in his ear:

"It was just a dream, Haymitch, don't worry... I'm here. Now go back to sleep. I promise, I'm here..."

And with the sock in his and, it was like if she was actually there with him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I hope you liked that! :) Thank you all for the lovely reviews, it really warms my heart! Keep them coming and tell me your thoughts, xx._


	5. Arriving at the Capitol

_A/N: I'm sorry it took so long, but here's chapter 5! xx_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 5: ARRIVING AT THE CAPITOL<strong>

It felt as if Haymitch didn't get any sleep at all that night, but he must've fell asleep at some point, because when Amelia woke him up the sun was shining through the window.

"Oh, _what_ are you doing on the floor, dearie?", she exclaimed. "That is most _certainly _not a place for a tribute like yourself!"

Haymitch looked up at her. Today she was wearing a green jumpsuit with matching pumps and wig; she looked like a broccoli in Haymitch's eyes.

"It was more comfortable this way", he said and forced a smile, but Amelia didn't seem to get the joke.

"Poor child, I almost forgot", she said with compassion. "You must be so overwhelmed over all this when you're used to live like... a _wild _one. But you have _deserved _this luxury, and you have all the right to use it, so don't be shy, okay? Now get dressed so we can eat breakfast together."

She tripped out of the room and almost tumbled when she was about to cross the doorstep with her high heels, and once again Haymitch had to bit his lip to not laugh at her.

To his relief the clothes in the wardrobes wasn't as bad as he had thought; he had expected blue leather jackets with pink flamingo feathers and other crazy things that people from the Capitol liked so much, but Haymitch was actually able to find a pair of black cotton trousers and a gray t-shirt.

Amelia, Cordo, Leonard and Fannia was already in the dining room when Haymitch arrived, but he didn't seem to find Maysilee with them. He was just about to ask for her, but then he remembered that the bond between the two of them was now broken. Maybe Maysilee had understood that last night as well and thought that the best would be if they met as seldom as possible... which it probably was.

"Good morning, sunshine", Cordo said grumpy. "Ready to get pretty?"

Right. Today they would meet their stylists to be prepared for the parade later that day that symbolized the opening of the Hunger Games. They were supposed to represent something from their district, and since District 12 worked with coal mining their costumes always looked boring compared to the other district's. They didn't get much interest and not many people wanted to sponsor them in the Games.

"I guess", Haymitch replied. "Are there any new stylists? Since we're four tributes this year, I mean?"

He looked at Cordo, but it was Amelia who answered him. She most likely knew more about this than Cordo did anyway, so maybe it was good.

"Oh yes, you get four brand new stylists. The one's from last year, Ben and Diana, have got promoted to other district's."

Of course they had. No one wanted to stay in the looser district.

"I actually haven't met the new ones though", Amelia continued, "have you, Cordo?"

Cordo shook his head.

"No, why would I've?"

Then he started to cough so intense that Haymitch actually got a little afraid that he would break his lungs. He wondered if maybe they should help him, but Leonard and Fannia just sat quiet, and Amelia sighed annoyed.

"It's those cigarettes, Cordo", she said. "Every year I tell you to stop smoking them, but when I come back you're still doing it, you bloody fool. I know some doctors in the Capitol, I'm sure they'd help you..."

"I don't want their help", Cordo interrupted. "And not yours either, woman."

As a defiant child he reached for a cigarette and his lighter in his pocket. Amelia glared at him.

"If you have to smoke, don't do it in here", she snapped. "Go to your carriage!"

"Nope"; Cordo said and lit the cigarette. "If I'm gonna mentor these kids, they better get used to it."  
>And acrid smoke raised from his mouth, and just breathing made Haymitch cough and gave him horrible headache. How could Cordo actually do this every day?<p>

He wish that Cordo had actually went to his carriage, because now he poisoned all the food around him and made it impossible for Haymitch, and probably the others too, to eat. Cordo had only started smoking, but it already stink in the whole saloon. He didn't even want to know what it smelled like in Cordo's carriage, or worse, in his house in Victor's Village.

"I'm not very hungry actually", Leonard said and looked at Cordo with disgust. "Are you done, Fannia? Haymitch?"

Even though Haymitch would do anything to leave the room, he shook his head. He had made his decision, and it was not to befriend the other tributes.

But where was Maysilee? Amelia must've waken her up too, and she needed breakfast. Maybe she was hiding in her carriage, but Amelia would absolutely not tolerate that and come and get her sooner or later. What was she up too?

As if she understood what he was thinking, Fannia replied Leonard:

"I'm fine too. We could go and find Maysilee for you if you want, Amelia?"

"Oh, that would be so great sweetie!", Amelia said, visible happy that her tributes wasn't some "wild ones" but actually had manners. "I think she's still in her carriage, I tried to wake her up but she didn't want to get up."

"Why?", Haymitch asked before he could stop himself.

Amelia shrugged and poured more tea into her cup, and the tea had a light green color that matched her clothes. Haymitch couldn't help but wonder if _everything _Amelia did matched her clothes.

"How could I know?", she said. "But don't worry, dearie, it's probably just the nerves. I'm sure she's alright."

She smiled at him and Haymitch thought that what he had with Maysilee, whatever it was, _had _to stop. It shouldn't be that hard, they didn't even know each other. But something inside of him didn't want to let go of the girl who bought eggs from him.

Leonard and Fannia left the table, and Amelia kept nagging about Cordo's cigarettes.

"Can't you _please _put that down now for a second and eat something instead? Who's gonna take care of the tributes if you die?"

Cordo looked angry at her and put his cigarette away, and reached for a piece of bread.

"What does it matter?", he said. "They're all gonna die in the bloodbath anyway."

Amelia glanced at Haymitch as if he wasn't supposed to hear that and hissed at Cordo:

"Don't say so, you don't know that yet! Oh God, it's the same _every single year; _why won't you just try to mentor them the best you can instead of criticize them and hide in your room all day. I get so sick of you, you always..."

Haymitch stopped listening to them and looked out the window instead. They had been traveling all night, so they should be in the Capitol soon. Haymitch had of course never been in the Capitol before, or the other district's, but he had heard stories about it in school and seen pictures. It was supposed to be bigger than all the district's together, with huge buildings and people dressed in strange clothes and make up with bright colors. In district 12 they wore what they had, and make up wasn't even a option since no one, except of maybe the mayor, could afford it.

"I'm full as well", he said and stood up from his chair. He didn't want to spend his last hours of freedom socializing with people he didn't even like. He was rather alone.

Amelia smiled at him once again with compassion and Haymitch wondered why all the Capitol citizens had to act like if they understood the tributes. They didn't. They let their president send innocent children straight to the death while they gladly watched and cheered when they killed each other. Let's send _their _kids into the arena and maybe they'd see that no compassion in the world would make any difference.

Once President Snow had visited district 12, something he didn't do usually. It was for a meeting with the mayor about the mines, but afterwards he walked around the district and watched his people. Haymitch will never forget the look in Snow's face when he saw them; like if they were trash and not actual human beings. He didn't even look at the starving, poor people that lived on the street, as if he thought they had an illness that could infect him if he met their gaze. Haymitch didn't like the Games, but if Snow was in them he would hope, with all his heart, that someone murdered him as soon as possible; the more brutal, bloody and painful as possible.

Maybe that's the way the Capitol still felt about the district's, after all these years. Maybe the uprising left a big scar that made the citizens hate them so much, that they had this desire to watch 23 children die every single year.

But it was still no excuse for their behavior.

"Oh, I left the tape of the recap from the reaping's in your room, Haymitch", Amelia said. "You missed it yesterday and we didn't want to bother you when you were in the shower. But there should be enough time for you to watch through it if you want to."

Haymitch nodded at her, but he didn't have any further plans to watch the recap; actually he was rather glad he had missed it yesterday. Even though it could be helpful to know who your enemies were, he wouldn't even remember half of the names, and besides it would be too painful to watch his own reaping since it would remind him of Septimus and Phenelope. No. It was better to just let it be.

On his way back to his carriage he almost walked right into Maysilee, who finally had decided to go and eat breakfast. Haymitch quickly looked down and refused to look at her, but when Maysilee grabbed his arm, and a warm breeze filled his body, like when you drink something hot, it was nearly impossible to ignore her.

"What now?", he snapped and dragged his arm back.

Maysilee stepped back.

"I was just going to ask you if Cordo was still in the saloon! What's wrong with you?"

Haymitch snorted and said:

"Oh no, I'm just waiting to die, nothing's wrong with that. Why do you want to meet Cordo anyway? He isn't very mentorish if you haven't noticed..."

"Haymitch, I don't know about you, but I'm gonna try my best to win, and I need Cordo's help to do that."

"Yeah, go and talk to him and make him train you", Haymitch said sarcastic.

"Thank you! I will."

"Good luck..."

Maysilee gave him an angry look and then continued walking towards the saloon.

Haymitch forced himself not to look after her and walked in the opposite direction. _Talk to Cordo. _First she tried to befriend him, and now she's going to make their addicted mentor to help her? Perhaps Maysilee Donner was more eager to win than he had first thought.

Not that it mattered anyway. She was still going to die, just like everybody else. That a Merchant girl from district 12 would survive among 47 others wasn't very likely.

It wasn't very likely that he, Leonard or Fannia would win either. All four of them was probably going to be killed already in the bloodbath; the best they could do was to accept it.

Someone had cleaned his room while he was eating breakfast; the bed was made and the clothes he had thrown on the floor was neatly folded. The tape that Amelia had talked about lied on the bedside table.

Haymitch wondered if maybe he should watch it anyway, but he quickly changed his mind again. He was going to meet the other tributes at the parade and the training, and of course in the arena, wasn't that enough? The careers was usually happy to get reaped, but he wouldn't be able to stand to see the other's sad and shocked faces when their names was drawn from the big glass ball, and think that maybe he would be the one to kill them.

He lied down and the bed and looked at the clock on the wall; half past nine.

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock..._

To his surprise it was Fannia who waked him up this time. She had changed clothes to a white skirt and t-shirt, and her hair was in two ponytails.

"Haymitch!", she whispered. "You need to wake up, we're here!"

_The Capitol._

Haymitch stood up from his bed and looked out the window. They seemed to be in some kind of train station, and people in strange, bright clothes waved and cheered at them.

Haymitch had of course seen the Capitol citizens on TV earlier, but they looked much more... more in reality. They didn't even look like humans, more like large birds without wings. Amelia's clothes and wig was actually pretty normal compared to this.

"The Remake Center is not far away, according to Amelia", Fannia said. "Are you looking forward to meet your stylist?"

Did he? Haymitch wasn't sure. The stylist's were around to help them to get noticed by sponsors, but they never did since the stylist's never liked the tributes from district 12 and didn't put much effort on their costumes.

"I don't know", he said. "I guess we'll see what happens when we meet them."


	6. Remaking

_A/N: Here's (finally) chapter 6! For those who want to see, I made a fanfiction trailer for this a while ago, you can watch it here: youtube(.)com/watch?v=NhBcorRfWR8_**  
><strong>

_Oh, and please review for faster updates! :) xx_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 6: REMAKING<strong>

Haymitch lied naked on a big gurney while his prep team hovered around him like bees at a beehive. They hadn't really got time to introduce themselves, but he thought that the woman with yellow hair was called Angel, and the man with lenses that made him look like a cat was Phillipe. The second man he barely knew what he looked like, since he came when Angel and Phillipe already had started, but Haymitch heard the others call him Magnus a several time so he guessed that's his name.

"Ouch!"

Angel was in full swing with a pink tweezers at his eyebrows, which she snatched hair from with habitual and flexible fingers. It didn't hurt except of when he wasn't prepared for it.

"I'm sorry, honey", she said without sounding even the least sorry, "but you can't walk around with bushy eyebrows! It's for your own good."

_Oh, what a disaster: bushy eyebrows._

It was probably just for the Capitol citizen's security; what if someone would go in there and never get out again? That would be hard for the president for explain...

"_Unfortunately Head Gamemaker Runyon Trinket is still missing. Rumor has it that he got lost into our tribute Haymitch Abernathy's eyebrows and can't find his way out of the bushes. Maybe he is still there, maybe not... Peacekeepers are searching for him and we hope that he can return to as soon as possible. Now for today's weather..."_

Haymitch couldn't help but smile at his own joke, but his prep time didn't care about him.

Whilst Angel was busy with his eyebrows, Magnus dipped his finger nails in a green oil, and Philippe did something with his hair. Haymitch had already showered once and lied in a hot mud bath, and all the hair on his legs and arms were gone. He felt so fragile, like if someone could break him with a simple touch.

"I wish that Chelsea could dress him in something else than that horrible overall", he heard Phillipe say. "I mean, look at him! The more you show of those muscles the better."

"I know, I know...", Angel said with a sigh. "He could get a lot of sponsors. But we don't know yet what she's gonna dress him in!"

"It's the same unattractive clothes every year, it's not very likely that she will do something different", Magnus mumbled and started to dry Haymitch's nails. "She probably just want to be done with it as soon as possible."

Haymitch didn't know this Chelsea, but after what he had heard he didn't like her that much. He couldn't really blame her though. Almost all stylist's had to start in district 12 and no one was really enthusiastic about it.

"Did Chelsea say anything about his hair color?", Phillipe asked.

"Yes, keep it natural", Angel said and put the tweezers away. "She wants him to look as much as himself as possible."

Well, that was a positive thing about his stylist after all. Haymitch didn't like to get dressed up and be fixed, so they were going to get on well on that point.

Phillipe seemed disappointed, though.

"That's too bad... he would look so good in orange. Oh well, it is what it is. Are you two finished so we can move on with his beard?"

"Just a moment, I must oil his eyebrows first..."

Haymitch looked back at Phillipe as much as he could in his lying position.

"Excuse me, but I barely have any beard. I shaved it yesterday and it doesn't grow very fast..."

Phillipe just laughed at him.

"Oh Haymitch, this is for future purposes... you won't have time to shave yourself in the arena, will you?"

_Future purposes... _what was this about?

When he thought about it, the male tributes never had any beard... how could that come? They were in the arena for about two weeks, so it should be visible, and he highly doubted that all of them had time to shave regularly.

So what were they gonna do with him?

"What do you mean?", he said.

"We will remove your beard with a laser", Angel explained as she brushed Haymitch eyebrows. "Don't worry, it'll grow back in a year or so."

"I thought Chelsea wanted to keep me as natural as possible?"

Angel put away the brush, and the three assistants started to roll away his gurney through the room.

"It's not her thing to decide, it's the president's order", Magnus said. "All male tributes must be without beard in the Games; you look younger and prettier that way, you see."

Of course. The audience wanted to see children in the Games, and children were what they wold get; a beard only proved that a boy was about to become a man, and that wasn't good for the show.

The assistants stopped the gurney, and Magnus took Haymitch's head between his hands and turned it until it was completely straight. Haymitch was just about to ask what he was doing when Phillipe pulled a motorcycle helmet-looking thing over his head and adjusted it until it was so tight that Haymitch couldn't move his head anymore.

_Oh God._

He didn't like to not be able to move. He couldn't defend himself if it would be necessary, or even look at his prep time to see what they were doing to him. It made him feel even more powerless than usual.

He bit his tongue to not scream and tried to escape by using the rest of the body, but Angel took his hand and sat down at the gurney.

"Just calm down, Haymitch, I will be here the whole time. Listen to my voice and don't care about what the others are doing... Haymitch, stop moving, calm down... lay still and listen to me, okay?"

Haymitch took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. They wouldn't take the helmet off no matter what he did so he could just do the best of the situation.

"Okay", he said. "I'll try."

Phillipe pushed some buttons on a remote and a machine behind Haymitch emitted a loud noise that made his ears hurt.

"It's starting now, Haymitch. Remember: just lay still and keep calm, no matter how much it hurts, and you can grab my hand as tight as you want..."

"It's gonna hurt?"

Angel didn't answer him, he just held his hand as the machine's sound went louder and louder. He could see her lips moving, but he couldn't hear anything because of the terrible noise.

It started as a tingling feeling in the back of his neck, like if a fly or a mosquito was talking on it, and Haymitch started to think that it wouldn't hurt that much after all. Maybe the prep team just had to say it because of safety rules; in case that it _would_ hurt.

But then the pain came... no, not pain; more like burning flames. The fire licked his face as the helmet began to vibrate heavily, and Haymitch closed his eyes and tried to think about something else.

He had dressed off in a white room before he could enter the Remake Center. Would he be able to get them back later? Phenelope's sock was still in the pocket... perhaps he couldn't bring it with him into arena, but at least he wanted to have it with him in the Capitol. If he didn't he doubted that he would stand the visit there.

He wondered if Leonard got his beard removed as well... he probably did, as he was old enough to grow it. Was he afraid? Probably, but he was also most likely staying strong. For Fannia.

_Tzzzzzzd._

An electric shock coursed through Haymitch's body and he winced like a fish out of water. Then another one.

_Tzzzzzzd._

Haymitch saw black spots in front of his eyes and he understood that he was about to faint. The noise of the machine muted and Angel's voice talked to him from far away:

"Haymitch, dearie, stay with us, don't faint. It's gonna be okay, just stay awake."

_Tzzzzzzd._

He could hear a scream and it took a while before he realized that it was is own.

"Aren't you done with that thing soon?", Angel yelled. "The poor boy can't handle much more!"

Perhaps she cared a little about him anyway. At least Haymitch wanted it to be that way.

"I can't stop now, we're almost done", Phillipe said. "Give him morphling."

Morphling was a powerful, painkilling drug that only very rich people could afford. Since it wasn't available in district 12, Haymitch had never used it before, but he had heard from it from school. Many victors of the Hunger Games became addicted to morphling.

He felt a strong stick in his arm and for a moment his sight was clear again.

A few seconds later he went unconscious.

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up."

A woman's voice woke him up from the dreamy state that the morphling had put him into. It sounded familiar in some way...

She smelled a little strange, but not in a bad way; like trees mixed with flowers and strawberries. She smelled like home.

"Haymitch?"

Haymitch slowly opened his eyes and found a woman with long, dark hair sitting on a chair next to his bed.

"Mom?", he breathed and sat up. He noticed that he wasn't naked anymore, but dressed in a white nightshirt.

The woman smiled at him and said:

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my name's Chelsea. I'll be your stylist during the Games."

He blinked at her. When he looked closer, Chelsea didn't look much like his mother; she was younger had a more edged face, and instead of the characteristic, gray Seam eyes, she had chocolate brown eyes.

Haymitch was surprised though about how natural she looked, compared to the other ladies from the Capitol. The only make up she wore was a black eyeliner and marked eyebrows.

"I'm sorry", he said. "It's just... at first sight I thought you were..."

"Nothing to apologize for. It's the morphling that makes you feel confused."

Haymitch was still a little dizzy, and he couldn't remember much from what happened before he fainted. The only thing he remembered was an extreme pain in his face.

"Why do you smell like that?", he asked. "Like my district?"

Chelsea's face lit up.

"Oh, do you like it? It's a perfume that I and the other stylists have worked on for the last months. We thought that you, Leonard, Fannia and Maysilee could wear it on the parade tonight."

"I thought the Capitol only knew us as the mining district?"

"That's what you are most known for, yes. But there's so much underneath, isn't it? Besides, who wants to smell like coal?"

Haymitch smiled at her and thought that, if he would get on well with someone in the Capitol, it would be Chelsea.

"Oh, I almost forgot!", Chelsea said and opened her green handbag. "I found this in the pocket of your pants, and thought that maybe you'd like to have it back."

It was Phenelope's sock, and Haymitch took it in his hand. Now he noticed how dirty it was compared to what it had been when he received it from Phenelope, even though he hadn't done anything with it. He guessed that traveling trough filthy air left its marks anyway.

"Thank you", he said. "That's really nice of you."

He expected her to ask him a lot of questions about it, but to his relief she just said:

"Oh, that's nothing. I need to go and finish your clothes for the parade, but Angel, Phillipe and Magnus will be here and do your make up until I come back."

"Okay."

Chelsea pushed a button under the bed and stood up.

"They should be here in just a second. See you later, Haymitch!"

Actually she met the assistants already in the door on the way out, and they hurried inside to talk to him. It was obvious that they had stood outside the door and waited to come in.

"I am _so _sorry, Haymitch", Phillipe said. "I would never have..."

"It's alright, it's not your fault. You just did your job."

"Are you sure? Because I mean..."

Chelsea cleared her throat behind them.

"Just do his make up, okay? The last days must've been hard for him, give him some rest."

Haymitch sent her a silent thank you as she walked out the door, and Magnus dragged him up of the bed and pointed at the chair.

"Sit", he said. "How are we supposed to do your make up if we can't see you, young man?"

Haymitch looked amused at him and sat down at the chair, and the assistants immediately started to discuss the make up.

"But orange eyelashes would look _so_ good at him, Angel!"

"Oh, you and orange, Phillipe! Didn't you hear what Chelsea said?"

"Stop it you two; help me find the goddamn pearls for his nails instead!"

"They're right in front of you, Magnus, use your eyes..."

Eventually they got started; Angel with the make up, Phillipe with the hair, and Magnus with his nails. Sometimes they nagged at each other, but at least they left him alone, which he appreciated.

Haymitch still didn't have much respect for his assistants, but they weren't as bad as he had thought they'd be. Sure, all they talked about was themselves and their own lives in the Capitol, but except of that they were actually quite okay. They even said that it was sad that Haymitch had been reaped into the Games ("what a waste of such a pretty face!").

After an hour or so, Angel finally put her last brush aside. She smiled at him and giggled of excitement.

"I think we can call back Chelsea now, dearie."


	7. Spark

_A/N: I am **very **sorry for the late update, I am so busy with school these last weeks. I end at June 14 so after that I will be able to write much more! I hope you like this chapter, and please keep the reviews coming, they are my inspiration!_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 7: SPARK<strong>

A spark in the dark mines of District 12. That had been the Chelsea and the other stylist's inspiration when they created their tributes' costumes.

Haymitch had to say that he was impressed, even though he could care less about fashion. He and Leonard were dressed in nothing but simple, black trousers, and their naked skin was completely covered in coal and glitter that shifted in red and orange. Only their faces were kept natural, with almost no make up at all.

It wasn't glamorous or breathtaking, but in some way it left a message that no one seeing them could miss.

_Keep your eyes open, because we will be lurking at you in the dark._

That's right, Chelsea and the other stylist's had made them look dangerous, maybe even a competition for the careers. Perhaps that wasn't true, but their outfits would definitely leave a mark, both at the sponsors and possibly at the other tributes.

Maysilee and Fannia had the same theme, but instead of trousers they wore short, black dresses, and shoes with high heels. If Haymitch didn't know it was her, he had never recognized this girl, with arms and legs covered in coal and with a serious face, as the nice and social Maysilee Donner from the merchant area. The Games had not even started yet, but she was already changed somehow. Haymitch wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Not that it mattered, they were still enemies. If he liked her not didn't make any difference.

For the millionth time he tried to convince his brain to that opinion, no, _fact, _and ignored Maysilee the best he could. What was even so special about that stupid girl that made his thoughts coming back to her over and over again?

Fannia had problems with the heels, and had to hold Leonard's hand to not fall over. Her stylist offered her a cane, but Fannia just shrank back with frightened eyes as if he had just pointed a gun at her. Luckily she didn't have any facial hair to remove; that machine would probably have scared her to death.

They were standing in the basement of the Remaking Center, which reminded of a huge stable. Each district had one chariot pulled by horses, and since they belonged to the final district, their chariot was in the back of the long line.

Haymitch tried to avoid looking at the tributes from the other districts, but he couldn't help observing one of the girls from District 1. She was older than him, maybe 18, and her silver glittering dress matched her eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul. Her beauty made her look so innocent in a way, and Haymitch almost believed in the quick smile she gave him, until he felt Phenelope's sock that was still in his pocket and remembered that no one in the games were innocent. Not even himself.

Leonard noticed his look at the girl and said:

"That's Serilda. She wasn't reaped, but her father yelled at her until she volunteered. I don't think she's very happy to be here."

From the day that they were born, the careers were trained for the arena in every possible way. Haymitch had heard that they even learned about different ways to kill humans in school. For them, being a part of the Games was an enormous honor and worth celebration. That Serilda wouldn't be happy to be here didn't sound realistic.

"Do you feel sorry for her?", Haymitch asked.

"I feel sorry for everyone who's been forced here", Leonard said, "which we've all been in one way or another. If I didn't I wouldn't be human."

Haymitch thought about what it would've been like to grow up in District 1, 2 or 4. Did they even have a choice or did their parents push them into their brutal lifestyle until they didn't question it anymore?

After what he had seen on TV during the years, he couldn't make himself feel any mercy for the careers. The way that they screamed and cried at the reapings in the hope to get chosen to compete in the Games, or how they recklessly maimed people in their own age without even looking at them, laughed of happiness when they won... it made him sick.

The music started playing and the stylist's helped them up in the chariot. Haymitch had Leonard on his left side and Maysilee on the right one. The horses started to walk after District 11's chariot, and less than half a minute later they were out on the streets of the Capitol. A fence separated the tributes from the Capitol citizens, who either cheered or booed at them. Some of them climbed at the fence to get closer to the kids, and shouted to get their attention. In the corner of his eye he saw Fannia on Leonard's other side, clinging to her cousin with closed eyes. Haymitch couldn't blame her, he was quite scared himself. Most of the citizens didn't even look like humans, with their strange clothes, extremely long eye lashes, and wigs and make up in bright colors. A young woman in the front had blue skin.

The ride continued for about 20 minutes. Haymitch could hear his name being called from the crowd, and when he looked up the people went crazy and waved with their programs at him.

"They seem to like us", Maysilee whispered. "Why?"

"I don't know", he said. "There's nothing special about us, not like the careers."

Maysilee suddenly grabbed his arm and pointed at something.

"Haymitch, look!"

A large television screen switched from District 8, three twelve-year-olds and an older boy, dressed in some kind of mixture of different textiles, to their own faces.

The glitter looked really good in the dark: "like a spark in the mines" as Chelsea had described it. Their light make up would make it easy to recognize them in the arena, and when Haymitch caught his own eyes on the screen, he realized why the Capitol citizens screamed their names and threw roses at them.

Most years, District 12 was skinny teenagers, with overalls that were a few sizes to big, and they almost always died the first day in the bloodbath.

But Haymitch, Maysilee, Leonard, and even Fannia, looked... evil, that was probably the best word to describe them. Not evil like the careers, but evil in a sly and darker way.

Haymitch felt a little guilty, because of his experience none of them were very evil, but he decided to let it be.

_It's a TV show. It's all just pretending._

Before he got time to over-think it, he knotted his fingers through Maysilee's and Leonard's. Leonard gave Haymitch a quick gaze and seemed to get it, and did the same with Fannia.

Haymitch didn't like to get any closer to the other tributes, but if pretending was what the Capitol wanted, he would do so. Maybe it could give him some sponsors. After all he had promised Septimus to do his best to win.

It was noticeable that Maysilee had been growing up in a much more rich and social family than the rest of them. She waved at the audience with a big smile on her lips and raised her fist in the air. The realization that the Capitol seemed to admire her gave her new confidence, and it made Haymitch once again think how dangerous she would be for him in the Games. To underestimate your opponents was never good, and he kept underestimate Maysilee because of her usually sweet appearance... but when she stood next to him in the chariot, sparkling of the red glitter and air kissing her possible future sponsors, she scared him. Maysilee might not be the strongest of the girls, but it was something else about her: she made everyone around her like her, and _that's _what scared Haymitch. How could he possible kill someone who everyone, including himself (even though he didn't want to confess it), liked?

They finally reached the City Circle, where all the sponsors and most prestigious people sat in huge windows of the buildings around them. There was even more cameras here that filmed every step that their horses took.

The twelve chariots filled the loop of the City Circle and came to halt, and the music ended. Haymitch immediately let go of Maysilee and Leonard's hands: his work with them was done for now.

President Snow looked down at them from his balcony to welcome them to the Capitol. He had light gray, almost white hair, and thick lips. Haymitch wondered he was born with them or if he was operated to look like that.

"Welcome, tributes", the president said, "welcome to our beautiful Capitol! We hope that you will find your visit helpful and inspiring, for your upcoming weeks in the arena. As your hosts we will do everything we can to prepare you. We admire your courage and sacrifice, and for that you deserve the very best luxury that we can afford during your stay here. Welcome, and happy Hunger Games!"

He became silent for a few seconds, before he dramatically ended his speech:

"...and may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

Panem's national anthem started playing in the speakers as the chariots brought the 48 tributes into the Training Center.

_The Horn of Plenty  
>The<em>_Horn of Plenty overflows  
>Panem will raise above<br>Panem shall reign above  
>And we shall never fall again<br>The Horn of Plenty overflows_

"Hey, what's your problem?", Maysilee asked. "The audience liked you, why didn't you at least wave at them?"

"I held your hand and showed some "district pride" or whatever the Capitol calls it, isn't that enough? Besides, I see no point in waving at people who's gonna cheer when I die."

Maysilee sighed.

"You can't judge them like that, Haymitch! Think about it, they've been growing up with the Games, most of them probably doesn't even know that it's wrong..."

"Oh, so children murdering other children is something wrong? Thanks for telling me, I didn't know."

"...and if they did think so", Maysilee continued and raised her voice, "do you think president Snow would allow it? He would kill them before they even..."

"Then why won't anyone take a risk, huh? People from the Capitol has much more power than we do, why don't anyone, just _anyone, _take a risk and try to make a difference?"

"Well, maybe it's not..."

"Are you mad?", Leonard suddenly hissed at them. "You two are gonna get us all in trouble if you keep talking like that in public. We're not in District 12 anymore, watch your mouth, for God's sake!"

Haymitch was about to give back a jeering answer, but stopped himself. After all Leonard was right. Arguing with Maysilee, and especially about the Hunger Games, wouldn't help him at all in the arena.

Chelsea, the other stylist's, Amelia and Cordo met them at the Training Center. Leonard helped Fannia off with her shoes so she could go barefoot instead, and Amelia lead them through the building.

"Oh, you were so fantastic, my darlings!", she said. "Especially you, Maysilee, your air kisses at the end were so brilliant. And such outfits, you were all so pretty that I nearly cried! Now, let's take the elevator to your floor, it's number 12, the same as your district so it's easy to remember. Oh, I hope they have some pudding for supper, I'm starving! Do you like pudding, Leonard?"

"Oh my God, woman, shut up!", Cordo growled and pushed the button to open the elevator. "No wonder that all our tributes die as much as you talk: they're fatigued before they have even entered the arena!"

The elevator took them to the top floor, which looked like a big apartment with a dining room, a lounge, and a bedroom for each and one of them. After they had changed clothes, they watched the recap from the parade together, but Haymitch didn't look very closely. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Fannia, who didn't seemed very interested in the television screen either, sat next to him and hummed on a song he didn't recognize. Haymitch offered himself to twine her hair, which was in a mess after the beauty products it had been exposed to during the parade, just to have something to do. At first she looked a bit scared, but then she smiled friendly at him and nodded.

Fannia's hair was typical for someone from the seam: black and thick. It reminded him of Phenelope.

As he twined her hair into a simple braid, he thought about what he had said to Leonard before the parade... if someone of the tributes were even the least innocent, it would be Fannia. Haymitch couldn't imagine her hurting even a bug.

Afterwards they ate dinner, which Amelia procrastinated by talking about all the places in the Capitol which she wished they could've seen during their visit, but they couldn't since it was against the rules to leave the Training Center. She and Cordo started fighting again about her talking and his cigarettes, and Haymitch ended up leaving the table early because he just couldn't stand them anymore. What a lovely evening.

Unlike his night at the train, Haymitch chose his sleepwear carefully this time, in the hope that maybe it could get him some better sleep. Eventually he picked a blue pyjamas with white buttons in the front, and he placed Phenelope's sock next to the pillow before he finally lied down and closed his eyes.

The pyjamas didn't help at all, apparently. Nightmares about the reaping and his family still haunted him, and he dreamed a several times about his own death, waking up screaming in fear right before his heart stopped beating. Whether it was by drowning in a huge lake, stabbed by Serilda from District 1, or hanging, Haymitch started to wish that he would actually die in his dreams. If he did, maybe he would be dead in real life as well.

But he didn't die. Instead he was just lying in his bed, staring at the wall, and waited for the morning to come and rescue him.


End file.
